


The Point

by seatbeltdrivein



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_kinkfest, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-16
Updated: 2010-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seatbeltdrivein/pseuds/seatbeltdrivein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Debasing himself to James is more or less the same as stabbing himself repeatedly in the eye, but if Al doesn't ask, then James can't give.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Point

James was watching him. Had been, in fact, for the entire day. Ever since Al had slipped up that morning, he'd felt his brother's eyes trailing him across the office, to the break room, to the bathroom. It was six in the evening, and Al knew he was going to pay.

"We're going to side-along." James stepped out of the MLE main office and gave him a passing glance. He looked disinterested, but there was a painful heat in his brown eyes that made Al squirm every time they rolled over him.

"Side-along? We could just Floo—"

"Are you saying no, then?" James leaned very close to him, grabbing one of his hands. "Are you?"

"No," Al breathed, flexing his fingers. "I—I wouldn't—" James stayed close for a moment, heated breath tickling the side of Al's chin. Then, abruptly, he pulled away, grinning wickedly.

"I didn't think so." Al didn't have time to respond; within the second, he felt a familiar tug as his brother Apparated them both straight into the sitting room of their shared flat. James didn't look angry. Rather the opposite, he was grinning like a damn fool. Al swallowed nervously and took a breath.

"Are you—"

"Have a seat," James cut him off, waving his wand casually and pushing Al onto the couch. "I have to go get something."

Al sat on the couch, trying to relax. He could hear James throwing things around in his room, but he was only able to catch a glimpse of him over his shoulder through the cracked door. It felt like forever before the older man walked out again, face glowing with wicked delight and his hands clutching a shopping bag.

"James—"

"I'd really thought better of you, you know," James said casually, dropping the bag into the seat next to his brother. "You're normally so well-behaved." It sounded like he was scolding a child. Al felt his face burn at the patronizing tone. "Open the bag."

Hands shaking, he pulled the drawstring top loose and up-ended the contents onto the couch. "You have to be kidding me," Al said faintly, glancing up to his brother and then back to the flimsy fabric and the heavy set ring laid out next to him. "_Please_ say this is a joke." But James wasn't laughing.

"Afraid not, little brother." His voice was husky, and the beginnings of a bulge straining against his slacks was enough for Al to know that his brother was more than a little into the idea. "You know how it works."

"I didn't mean to," Al said frantically. "Please, _James_—"

"That's enough." Al choked out a shaky breath, sliding off the sofa and onto his knees, hands clasping behind his neck. James shot him a dark look. He shouldn't agree to this. It was James' fault, after all. If he'd just kept his hands to himself while they were at work, Al wouldn't have had to—but there was nothing to be done for it now. He had offended James, and after being with him for five years, Al understood the price he would pay. "Put it on." There was no request. James knew that Al would obey.

The younger man pulled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes and socks, and tugged his pants off in a hurry, the indifferent look on his brother's face enough to drive him insane. Once he'd tugged off the last shred of clothing, Al grabbed the flimsy material, holding it up against his chest. It was an apron. More than that, it was a _frilly pink apron_ that looked like it came straight out of one of Hugo's porno magazines.

"You—James, please!" Al's face burned red as he took in the obviously feminine thing. "I can't wear this!"

"Really?"

The younger man hesitated. He knew that, realistically, James would never actually force him to do something against his will. It was part of the rules they had. But this was new, something they'd never done, and it was a _punishment_ on top of that. If Al refused, there would be consequences. "I'll… I'll wear it," he answered miserably, pulling the loop over his head and settling it around his neck, then reaching behind himself to tie the straps behind his back. He couldn't quite get them to meet. James chuckled, grabbing his brother by the shoulders and jerking him up.

"Let me help," he said into Al's ear, wrapping his arms around his waist and fixing the straps into a tight bow knot. "There," James said triumphantly. "Now let's take a good look. Spin around."

Al pulled the short length of the apron over his groin, acutely aware that there was nothing covering his backside. "James," he tried again, but his brother merely shook his head, spinning his finger around in a circle.

"_Spin_." Swallowing a desperate whimper, Al spun around, standing stock still as he faced the wall for a moment, his ass clenching reflexively as he heard James murmur appreciatively. "Again. Face me." He spun back to the front, his breathing coming a little faster and his dick hardening under his brother's careful scrutiny. James grinned and grabbed the ring off the couch. "And now for the final part!"

"No, come on, don't!"

"Shut up," James said harshly, pulling Al flush against his chest by the front of the apron's skirt. "Stop talking." It was an order. Al's mouth snapped shut before he could even consider it. James shoved him back again, his hands still firmly grasping the skirt front. Al looked away as his brother tugged it up and the cool air of the room hit his bare cock. "Already enjoying yourself?" James leered, one hand circling around Al's dick. Al clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, pushing away the urge to buckle under the pressure of humiliation, to thrust into that hand. James had pulled his wand out by the time he finally looked back. The ring was sitting on the head of his cock, and James was slowly squeezing and releasing the length.

"Nnhg!" _Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease_—

"Quiet now," James hushed, tapping the ring lightly with the tip of his wand. The ring seemed to glow for a moment before expanding and sliding down to the base of Al's erection. With another tap, it shrunk again, effectively restraining Al. His cock throbbed heavily for a few moments before relaxing into the pressure. "You know I hate to see you unhappy," James said, one hand cupping Al's face while the other lazily stroked the younger man's cock. Al swallowed hard and nodded, his hands gripping at James' shirt as he reminded himself to breathe.

"Yes," he said, swallowing. "Yes."

"Yes," James echoed mockingly. "But then, I also hate it when you act like a spoiled child."

Al wanted to laugh at that. Of anyone, James was the most spoiled little boy he had ever known. Always doing exactly what he wanted, no matter the consequences. It was how they'd ended up where they were now. It was how they _always_ ended up there.

"I'm sorry," Al said as sincerely as he could.

"Not yet you're not." Apparently it wasn't sincere enough. "But you will be. Crawl behind me. No, on your knees!" Al slid down to the floor, legs shaking, and poised himself on his hands and knees. "Good, that's—" James took a breath, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "You look good like that, all pretty and waiting." His face was bright red, Al knew. His brother was just _staring_, and no matter how hard his cock was, it was all just too much, too humiliating. "Follow me."

"Yes."

James stopped. "Yes _what_?"

"Yes, Sir," Al mumbled, eyes trained on the thick carpet cushioning his hands and knees.

"Good boy." A hand patted the top of his head briefly. James walked out of the room, and Al crawled furiously behind him, his knees burning from the drag of carpet on skin. His brother stepped into the bathroom, holding the door open for Al with an impatient look. "Hurry it up," James scowled. "I don't have all day!"

"Yes, Sir," Al murmured again as he crossed the threshold, sitting back on his haunches as James began to strip.

"Draw me a bath. Not too hot though," he added cautiously. Al resisted the urge to roll his eyes and set about cranking the bath knobs. His face was still red, he noticed as he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror from behind James. Red and tight. He looked miserable. But he wasn't, not really. They had a formula, he and James. He understood what James needed from him. Sometimes James needed someone to fuck; sometimes James needed someone to lie in bed and talk with; and sometimes James needed to humiliate someone to reiterate his superiority, the uppity bastard.

Generally, Albus Severus was _always_ that "someone."

"It's ready, Sir," he said, looking over his shoulder.

"Just sit there," James said lazily, immersing himself into the hot water. "I'll need you to wash my hair." He sighed contentedly, leaning his head back against the rim of the large tub. His eyes closed briefly and then snapped back open, zeroing in on Al. "Don't touch yourself," he said quietly.

Flustered, Al nodded. He hadn't wanted James to notice how hard he was, how much he responded to—to being treated like some slave. He hated it. Every time James insisted they "play" like that, Al's mind would shriek in despair about his wounded, traumatized pride even as his cock stood at attention, ready. Nothing was more humiliating than being his big brother's slave.

If only he didn't enjoy it so much.

Grabbing the shampoo off the low shelf next to the tub, Al rubbed it between his shaking hands, threading his fingers into James' hair and rubbing it in.

"You're so good at that," James sighed, leaning back and resting one arm on the edge of the tub. He moaned contentedly, the sound shooting straight to Al's already suffering, stiff prick. Fighting the urge to push closer to the tub and rut against the side for even a tiny bit of relief, he focused on his hands, working them through his brother's thick copper hair.

"Thank you." His voice, strained from arousal and a painful frustration, was barely audible.

"Um," James hummed, reaching a hand awkwardly behind himself to run wet fingers through Al's dry hair. "You're fine," he said, sitting forward and out of his little brother's reach. "Rinse your hands in the sink and wait for me." Al nodded, his eyes focused on the floor, and stood shakily, his knees dented in from kneeling for so long. He ran the sink cold and rinsed the suds from his hand, glancing into the mirror to watch James finish his bath and step out.

He wanted to touch himself _so fucking badly_. Letting the cold water run over his hands brought little relief to the burning between his legs, and it didn't help at _all_ when a very naked James pressed against his back.

"What—" Al's voice trailed off in a squeak, and James laughed into his neck. "What should I do?" _Just let me come!_ his mind shrieked.

"Well, let's see," James said, resting his chin on Al's shoulder, his back hunching awkwardly due to the height difference, and following his hands across his brother's chest with his eyes. "Dinner would be nice, wouldn't you say so?" With a sharp slap to Al's backside, he walked out of the bathroom, throwing back, "I'll be in the study!" just before he disappeared from view.

"Fuck," Al whimpered, clutching the edge of the sink and breathing deeply. He could come—he could come _right there_, if James would let him. Shoving the urge to tug his dick raw to the back of his mind, he counted to ten, took another deep breath, and walked carefully into the kitchen. The ridiculous pink monstrosity clinging to his neck was soaked from the bath water and his own leaking cock. Walking, he found, was not an easy task. The damp material rubbed his cock painfully with every step he took until he finally held the lower half out like a lady would her skirt. As he stepped into the kitchen, James peaked in and grinned widely.

"Something the matter, _Dearest_?"

"No," Al whispered, dropping the apron and standing still, unable to stop from staring. James hadn't bothered to dress beyond a pair of sweat pants, his wet hair still flattened against his forehead, and he was still _grinning_. Al shifted back and forth on his feet, swallowing a desperate, frustrated groan.

"You're sure?" James' eyes were bright. "There's nothing you need?"

"No," Al said again, he voice wavering. "What," he swallowed harshly, "what would you like to eat?"

"You know me," James shrugged. He was still chuckling, still grinning, and Al felt split between the desperate desire to throw himself at his brother's feet and beg him for release and the more violent desire to slam his fist into that laughing face for treating him like a house elf, of all things.

In the end, both fantasies fell unrealized, and Al stood over the stove, spatula in hand, and tried not to burn the eggs.

"This could be so much easier," James said, leaning against fridge and watching Al's bare back with interest. "I can take care of you, but only if you ask." He left before Al could think of anything to say back, his lower lip trembling from the shame of it, from being so much less than James. Even worse, from _enjoying_ all of it.

But he was so hard, and it _hurt_. It felt like he hadn't come in centuries and, worse still, James was just a room away, waiting for him to give in. Al panted, trying to focus, but the burning in his stomach was spreading, his entire body on fire, and he couldn't handle it. He waved a hand at the stovetop, the fire burning off, and he stumbled from the kitchen, stopping in the doorway of the study. James looked up and smiled.

"Need something?" He asked again, leaning back in his chair, his feet kicked up on the desk. Al squirmed and nodded, his hands fisted in the front of his apron. "You'll have to do better than that," James said sternly, sliding his feet back to the ground and pushing out of the chair. Al just kept taking in harsh gulps of air, his eyes glazed. James stepped right up to him, their chests nearly touching. He tilted his head down so Al could look him in the eyes. "What is it?"

"I—" Al cut off, his face red and his jaw clenched. James could practically see his mind, hear the things he was screaming, the little _am I really this weak?_ playing behind his eyes. He ran a hand down his little brother's pale torso, resting it on his hip. "I need to come!" Al finally blurted out. "_Please_," he added, "Sir." His hips bucked just slightly, not quite touching James' thigh.

"Is that so?" James said, his voice lazy and disinterested, masking the burn that had been building the entire evening, from the moment Al looked up at him from the couch desperately clinging to his dignity. "And what do I get?"

"Whatever," Al whimpered, breaking down. He clung to James' arms as if trying to stop him from escaping, and nodded earnestly. "_Anything_, please, just—"

"Breath," James said gently, his eyes betraying the game for just a moment before hardening again. "Get yourself ready me." He jerked his wand from one of the baggy pockets of his sweats and wordlessly summoned the lubricant from his bedroom. "Get the apron off and get your ass nice and wet for me," he said as the tube hit the palm of his hand, handing it over to his shaking brother. Jerking the sweats down to his thighs, he dropped back into the chair and set his wand on the desk, his dick hard and waiting, just as Al untied the bow at his back and dropped the apron. The younger man seemed to be warring with himself, standing rigidly in the center of the office, eyes shooting rapidly between the tube in his hand to his brother's face. "Albus Severus," James said sternly, watching his brother twitch at his formal name. "I'm _waiting_."

"Yes, Sir," Al said finally, squirting a thick glob of lube onto his hand and dropping the container to the floor, reaching behind himself to—

"No," James said, his voice slightly hoarser, "turn around, one hand on the wall. I want to see you work yourself." Al's face would likely have a deep blush on it for eternity, James thought, watching the shade darken just before his brother nodded tersely and turned to the wall. He heard Al take a sharp breath as he rubbed his slick fingers between his cleft, fingering the opening for a moment before sliding one in knuckle-deep, stroking it in and out for no more than a few seconds before sliding the next in, fucking himself as best he could with his arm at such an awkward angle. James had the sudden, burning desire to see Al's face when he heard the other man's breathing shift to shallow pants, watching the fingers stretch the tiny ring open until James could just make out the glistening pink flesh within.

"James," Al sighed, fucking himself with the two fingers, holding himself open. "I—ah, fuck," he let chest press against the wall, his cheek resting against it as well, as his green eyes sought out his brother's brown ones, begging him silently. James fisted his own cock slowly, drawing out the moment as long as he could. He could see the plea written plainly across his brother's face, kept quiet only by the stubborn pride to which he so desperately clung. _Let go_, he wanted to say, _let go and I'll do anything for you_, but Al would learn eventually.

After all, it took much more to get the younger man begging when they'd started out.

"_James_," Al jerked his fingers out, nearly sobbing his brother's name out. "I can't—oh god, I can't anymore." He scrambled to the chair, his hands gripping James' naked thighs as he stared up desperately. "Let me come," he gasped, "I'll be better, I'll—"

But James cut him off, jerking him up onto his lap by his shoulders, his tongue already pushing into his brother's pleading mouth "Fuck yourself on it," he gasped into the kiss, gripping Al's ass painfully. "Get it in you."

"Yeah," Al mumbled, pulling away to grab at James' cock, his saliva-slickened lips catching the light. James pulled Al's ass, spreading the cheeks open so his brother could position himself to take James in. "Okay," Al gasped, pushing down until the head popped in. "_Oh_—" James had him by the hips, his fingers digging in as Al worked himself up and down, keening loudly, unable to hold in a single whimper, a single sigh.

"This—needed this," James said, his lips pressed tight to Al's neck, and his brother clenched his ass, every muscle gripping James with an unforgiving tightness. "_Fuck yes_!" He could do that forever, spend his whole life in Al's ass, he just knew—

But they'd been on the edge for too long, and Al was sobbing, begging for the cock ring to come off, for James to fuck him harder, for anything his big brother could give, and James cursed, one hand grabbing for his wand off the table, jamming it between them and holding his squirming brother in place as he tapped the ring, jerking it off of Al's bright red cock while simultaneously trying not to blow his load before Al did. This, it seemed, wasn't very hard to do. As soon as the ring slid off Al's cock, he was howling, riding James with an abandon he'd never shown, his cock jerking and spurting as he rode through his orgasm. James was barely a few seconds behind him, his dick stuck in the iron grip of Al's ass, his eyes wide and unseeing as he tried to breathe, feeling his brother's cum hit his chest while his own flooded the tight ass encasing it.

Al slumped against his chest when they finally fell back into themselves, and James panted, his breathing evening out slowly. "You did well," he said finally, running a hand through Albus' dark, sweat-dampened hair.

"Thanks," Al said unthinkingly, then frowned into James' neck.

"One day, you'll have to learn to ask," James gave a crooked smile.

"Shut it," Al said grumpily, "I'm too tired, and I don't give a damn anyway." James snickered, and just like that, all the tension of the scene was gone.

"Still," James continued, ignoring Al's petulant huffing, "you're mine. It'll just make things hard on you." Al's response was a rumbling snore, and James sighed, his hand stilling in Al's hair. One day, he thought, his brother wouldn't need to be humiliated into doing things, but until then—James grinned. Until then, he thought and glanced at where the apron lay abandoned on the floor, he'd just have to get creative.


End file.
